


Rainy Night in Georgia

by Ninkasa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninkasa/pseuds/Ninkasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean encounters someone he never expected to see again in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainy Night in Georgia

Dean frowned hard at the woman in front of him, mentally cataloguing where the holy water, salt and -- most importantly -- Ruby’s knife was. 

He’d been driving down through what he’d belatedly realized was Georgia swampland for about an hour when suddenly the Impala’s lights had flickered, the radio had stuttered and suddenly everything had died.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if it was only the second time it had happened. 

He sat there for a moment with the rain pouring down as the woman -- well, not woman -- stood with her arms folded in front of the car, looking as if she had every right to be there.

She was petite, long dark hair, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a black tank top underneath a denim jacket.

He noticed her curves first. Honestly, the rest was secondary. And then his natural instincts kicked in.

Dean closed his hand around the knife he’d stashed under the seat.

It did occur to him -- briefly -- that this might be an angel, come to try to muscle him into agreeing to be an angel-condom. Then it occurred to him that if said angel could find him, then Cas was seriously losing his touch and they needed to have a chat about GPS and the scarring of bones. 

Besides, none of this really seemed like an angel’s style. The car had died, not exploded.

After a long moment where they stood and stared at each other, Dean slowly opened the door and climbed out into the pouring rain to confront the Hell-bitch and move on with his life.

She was pretty, he’d give her that. 

Of course, he couldn’t imagine any demon ever choosing an ugly meat suit. . .

The demon smiled at him.

“Dean Winchester. Back from Hell and fully repaired at that.”

He realized the smile looked vaguely familiar. 

But this smile didn’t make him feel nervous or sick with worry. So it wasn’t Ruby. 

And he didn’t have the intense feeling he was about to be knifed in the stomach. So it wasn’t Meg. 

Hell, he wasn’t even concerned that she was going to kill him.

The girl smiled, looked down. Up. And then back at him. 

“You don’t recognize me, do you?” She said after a moment.

Dean’s grip tightened around the knife in his hand and he shook his head. “No. Sorry, you’ll have to refresh my memory,” he said. “I kill a lot of you guys.”

“You didn’t kill me,” she said after a moment. “Although your brother was giving it a hell of a shot.” She looked around now. “Where is Sam, by the way?”

“Not here,” Dean answered and for a moment, he did wonder where Sam was exactly.

The demon’s eyes went closed again and then opened. A flash of black and then they were normal again.

And suddenly in her hands was a bottle of whiskey.

Something clicked then.

“Casey.”

She smiled. “Sure. We can use that name.”

“I didn’t recognize you,” he said. Not that recognizing her should have mattered. 

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been thirty seconds from Sam shooting her, with Dean trying desperately to stop him.

They’d grappled for the Colt for a moment and when Dean had turned around, she’d been gone.

It had occurred to him, later, that they should have gone after her, but there had been so much else going on at the time and -- honestly, he hadn’t wanted to see her dead.

Which was really a new sensation for him.

Dean lowered his hand after a moment, slipping the knife back into the back of his jeans. 

He didn’t think she was going to try to kill him.

Then again, his brother had killed her boyfriend, so. . .

“What did you want, Casey?”

Casey moved forward and handed the bottle of whiskey to him. 

“I wanted to see for myself how you were doing,” she said after a long moment of staring at him. “I’ve heard stories, of course.” She paused. “Actually, I’m not sure how many of the stories are true, but I’ve heard enough to know you in particular are in danger from both sides of the war.”

Dean looked down at the bottle of whiskey and then back up at her.

She smiled again then. “Don’t worry, Dean. It’s not poisoned.”

Dean hadn’t really been thinking of that, but now that she mentioned it, he did remember vaguely that she’d had “faith” in Lucifer’s resurrection.

He frowned down at the whiskey. 

Casey frowned at him now. “Come on, Dean. If I was sent to kill you, I’d have come up with a better plan than poison.” She paused. “Besides, you’re not the one Lucifer’s after. And I don’t even know where Lucifer is.”

Dean frowned at this. “You’re not one of Lucifer’s little in-crowd?”

Casey snorted rather inelegantly at that. “Not exactly.”

Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say I don’t exactly get along with some of the members of his entourage.”

Dean snorted. “Meg. Right?’

Casey’s brow furrowed for a moment and then Dean saw the comprehension form on her face. “Ha. Sure. We can call her that. No. Actually, I don’t have a problem with -- Meg. But there are some others I don’t particularly want to dick around with.”

There were about four different things wrong with that statement, and Dean was trying to formulate just what to focus on first, but it mostly seemed to stem from the fact that there was everything wrong with this situation.

Why the fuck was he standing in the middle of the road in the rain, talking to a demon for fuck’s sake?

Just another example of how fucked up his everyday life had become.

And he apparently needed better hex-bags in the Impala if Casey could just track him down like this.

Casey smiled at what was apparently her reading his thoughts. “I asked a friend of mine for a favor.”

“A demon?” Dean asked, finally getting up the courage to take a drink of the whiskey.

He did wonder briefly where she’d gotten it from.

“A witch,” Casey replied, smiling as the rain slid down her face and down her throat.

Dean realized rather belatedly that he was staring at where her throat and collar bone met and took another swig from the bottle to distract himself.

“You know,” Casey said, slowly. “A gentleman would ask me to sit down.”

Dean glanced around, briefly thought of alligators, the Dead Marshes and Ned Beatty and then said, “Okay, fine. But we’re not sitting outside.”

A corner of Casey’s mouth quirked up at this. “Don’t follow the lights.”

“Yeah. Alright, Smeagol, let’s sit in the car.”

Casey held up her hand to catch some rain drops and smiled again. “Lead on, MacDuff.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He didn’t bother to look back to see if she was following and therefore jumped slightly when he turned to see her already seated in the passenger seat.

“Much better,” she said after a moment of him staring at her. “Nice and warm.”

He wanted to ask. . .any number of things, but she spoke up first.

“I couldn’t believe it when I heard you’d gotten out of Hell.” She hesitated. “I really couldn’t believe it when I heard Sam had let Lucifer out.”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes and took another drink of whiskey instead. Then he waited a moment and said, slowly, “I wasn’t particularly okay with it myself.”

She gave him that self-sure smile she’d given him years ago in that basement and reached out to take the bottle from him. “Is that why you’re alone?”

Dean frowned harder than before now and then after a moment, shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling that had been settling into his stomach.

“Sort of.” He paused a moment, and then continued. “Actually, I wasn’t alone until about a day or so. . .I was helping a friend of mine with a -- a problem he was having.”

Casey raised an eyebrow. “Your angel friend?”

Dean was glad he wasn’t taking a drink at the time, because he would have choked for sure.

“Well, let’s talk about you for awhile,” he said. “Since you obviously already know everything that’s going on with me.”

Casey laughed softly. “No.” She hesitated, seeming to think for a moment, and then said. “When Lucifer got out, a shout went out across all of our kind. Mostly in the form of dreams, but the exact message was that Lucifer had been broken out of his cell. . .and that Dean Winchester had rebelled against the forces of Heaven with an angel’s help.”

Dean remembered suddenly, Meg saying something along those lines. 

It’s Heaven on Earth. Or Hell.

He’d not really given it much thought prior to that.

“So, you’ve been dreaming about me.” He said after a moment’s consideration.

Casey snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not exactly on the top of my list of dream guys.”

“Really?” Dean said after a moment of working out whether to be insulted or not. “Who is?”

Casey shrugged a shoulder at him. “Well, it was Hugh Jackman.” She grinned. “But I’m afraid these days it tends to be more Christian Bale.”

“Batman?”

Casey laughed. “Actually, I kind of liked The Prestige, but yeah. Him too.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s the accent.”

Dean chuckled and then thought about it for a minute. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“You said that Yellow Eyes --”

“Azazel.”

“Right. You’d said that he was the one that was holding everyone together.”

“Right.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to word what he wanted to ask. “Then how the Hell did Ruby and Lilith pull this off?”

Casey hesitated a moment. “No one knew what Ruby was up to.” She paused. “She played the part of outcast brilliantly. I think only Lilith knew everything.” 

“But shouldn’t Yellow. . .Azazel. Have known what the actual plan was?”

Casey hunched a shoulder and shrugged. “He might have eventually. But you killed him before the real shit started to hit the fan.” She waited a moment. “He had people who were loyal to him. People like your Meg. Like Tom.” She paused. “People who did his bidding without asking too many questions. And I think he did what he was told by someone else.” 

“It seems like a shitty way to win a war.”

Casey’s eyes were bright suddenly. “But the war’s not over, Dean. You threw a monkey wrench in the plan when you escaped and killed Ruby.” She paused. “That’s part of the reason why I came to find you.” She hesitated another moment. “I’ve heard whispers from other groups. Those of us who didn’t really want Lucifer to break out and it might be more complicated than we originally thought.”

He wanted to ask, but something was stopping him. He had a feeling he already knew what the complication was. Because if Michael needed a body to ride around in, then. . .

“Lucifer needs a vessel.”

Casey nodded. “Angel or demon. We need meat suits to really be able to make any impact.”

She paused. “I’ve heard it’s more than that, but I don’t know what.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Dean said after a moment spent considering her in what little moonlight was coming through the windows now. “To tell me stuff I already knew?”

Casey shook her head at this. “No. No, of course not. I just --” She hesitated. Dean couldn’t remember ever having seen her hesitate in their dialogue in the basement. “I wanted to say thank you,” she said. “And I’m not being sarcastic. And I’m not talking about Lucifer.”

“Well, you’d be the first these days.”

She grinned. “I meant for that night. If you hadn’t interfered, I wouldn’t be here now.”

And there was just so much wrong with that statement that Dean couldn’t quite decide how to respond. 

“Well, you’re welcome,” he said after a moment. “But trust me, I’m not one hundred percent comfortable with it.” He hesitated and then ploughed on anyway. “Every bit of my instinct is telling me to knife you right here and now.”

Casey worried at her lip with her teeth for a moment and then she smiled. “Well, trust me. Every instinct in me is telling me to tear you apart.” She paused. “Or run away as far as I can in the other direction.”

She met his eyes and he remembered that he had once tried to save her and why.

“But you’ll notice how we’re both fighting those instincts.”

She shifted a bit and leaned back against the seat, staring out at the rain falling on the window, in silence for a long time. Long enough that Dean stopped looking at her and looked back out at the rain himself.

Silence stretched for several minutes and Dean was about to reach out to turn on the radio when Casey shifted to face him and he mirrored her, almost instinctively.

“It’s a new era, Dean,” she said after they sat and stared at each other for a moment. 

“I don’t think anyone is really going to survive this.”

Dean frowned at this for a moment and then relaxed.

“We will,” he said after a moment’s consideration.

“I’ll make sure of it.”


End file.
